The Hazards Of Being An Auror
by autumn midnights
Summary: When Auror Morag MacDougal doesn't come home on time, Padma gets worried that something might have happened. Padma/Morag femslash. Rated T for language. Oneshot, complete. /for various competitions on the HPFC forum


_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is, unfortunately, not mine. Also, the pairing of Padma Patil/Morag MacDougal was invented by mew-tsubaki and Morghen, so credit goes to them._

_Author's Note: Written for the 2012 Hogwarts Games - Women's Boxing 500-1000 (femslash), Honeydukes Competition - Licorice Wands (set at a magical place) and the Padma Patil Competition. This takes place about six years after DH, so the characters are around twenty-three/twenty-four._

_The actual fic is 907 words._

* * *

Padma sighed, looking at the messy kitchen. The duty of cooking had fallen on her shoulders, since Morag never returned from her job as an Auror anytime before six-thirty at night, while Padma's job as a salesclerk at Flourish and Blotts only lasted until five. The main problem was that Padma was no expert at cooking - she was slightly better than Morag, but that wasn't saying much - and making even the simplest things usually resulted in a complete mess.

Not for the first time, she was grateful for the ability to do magic. She pulled her wand out of her pocket, waving it around the kitchen; within half a minute, the room was nearly-spotless. She set the timer for a half hour and walked into the living room, picking up a book that would occupy her until Morag arrived home.

A half hour passed, and Morag still wasn't home, although it was steadily nearing seven o'clock. Padma frowned as she removed supper from the oven, setting it on the counter. Usually, Morag would Floo-call - or at least have someone else Floo-call - if she was going to be this late. It wasn't like her to not come home on time, especially without warning.

Sighing, Padma trudged back into the living room just as there was a knock on the door. She opened it a crack, peering out to see an Auror in full uniform standing there. She didn't recognize the man, but that wasn't a shocker; there were so many Aurors it was impossible for an outsider to know all of them. Her heart beat faster - where was Morag? "Can I help you?" she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Surely Morag was fine - after all, Morag was a talented young Auror.

"Are you Padma Patil?" he said in response.

"Yes."

"Well, Auror MacDougal has you listed as the person to contact in case of any problems," the Auror said. "I would suggest, then, that you make your way to St. Mungo's."

"What happened?" Padma demanded, worried for Morag but thankful that at least she was at St. Mungo's, which implied being alive and well-taken-care-of.

The Auror sighed, muttering something about how this was not in the job description. "She was hurt," he said tersely. "Contact the Auror Office if you need anything else." He Disapparated on the spot. Padma swore - in a very un-Padma-ish moment - and closed the door, Disapparating instantly to St. Mungo's. She reached the front desk in record time, knocking past a family who all seemed to be the recipient of a hex that had turned them purple.

"I'm here to see Morag MacDougal," she panted, ignoring the family's glares. "Where is she?"

The witch at the front desk pointed to the sign. "Spell damage. Go on up - someone'll direct you from there. Next!"

Padma ran through the hospital, ignoring the Healers' calls for her to slow down and stop running. It had been years since she had felt this worried, this scared, and she didn't like the feeling at all. She asked a Healer again where Morag was when she finally reached the Spell Damage floor, and finally got the room number, bursting into the private room so fast she was nearly a blur. She stopped short once she stepped inside, though, not wanting to disturb Morag in case she was asleep, for her eyes were closed.

Whatever damage there was couldn't be seen; the blankets were drawn up to Morag's upper arms. "Morag?" Padma said softly, dropping into the chair beside her girlfriend's bed.

Morag's eyes opened. "Hey," she said, her voice low and raspy.

Padma leaned over, pressing a kiss to Morag's lips. Morag responded with a little more excitement than she probably should have, considering her current situation, although she winced when Padma finally pulled away. "What happened?" the Indian girl said, taking Morag's hand in her own.

"Bloody Death Eaters," Morag replied. "Well, you know how I told you there was a couple of them left, that we hadn't found yet. Rodolphus Lestrange, the bastard, and Yaxley, the arse. I was with Auror Vane, and we were scouting out this old abandoned warehouse that we thought they might be hiding out in. Vane and I had separated a little - she was on one side of the building, I was on the other - and the blasted Death Eaters jumped out at me. Two against one isn't the best odds." She shifted in the bed and groaned. "Oh, Merlin, that kills."

"What did they do to you?"

Morag pulled down the blanket and the neck of her hospital robe to reveal a bandage running across her upper chest. "Yaxley tried to kill me with that. Thankfully he got distracted by Lestrange, and it wasn't a full-strength curse." She pulled the bandage back. "'Course, that was only after a heavy dose of the Cruciatus Curse - trying to get me to tell them who gave the Auror Office the tip that they were there. We caught the bastards, though, thank Merlin."

Padma squeezed Morag's hand. "Forget about the Death Eaters - I was worried about you!" She frowned at Morag's chest, causing Morag to snort. "You'll be all right?"

"I promise," Morag said, and Padma smiled down at the other witch, grateful to have someone that she cared about - and who cared about her - as much as Morag.


End file.
